


With this ring

by Hotaru_Tomoe



Series: The English job [33]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, M/M, Missing Scene, Spoilers, The Avengers Infinity War spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-04-29 00:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotaru_Tomoe/pseuds/Hotaru_Tomoe
Summary: A few months ago, before Everett's adventure in the Kingdom of Wakanda, Stephen gave him a very special ring.Everett understands its importance after the events of Infinity War.Chinese translation by Olihere.





	1. 1

_ New York, 177A Bleecker street, _

_ a few months ago _

 

Slowly, Everett emerged from sleep and blinked several times, trying to figure out what time it was.

Not an easy task, since the heavy velvet curtains (magic curtains, he assumed) that closed the bedroom window, didn’t let much light filter through.

He reached for his nightstand in search of the alarm clock (and god, he still had to come to terms that there was a  _ "his" _ nightstand, a  _ "his" _ side of the bed, and a side that was someone else's). He touched something, but it wasn’t a metal parallelepiped, it was something soft and round, and it quacked when he pressed his hand harder.

His alarm clock didn’t quack, it couldn’t, unless someone had turned it into a rubber duck using magic.

He switched on the light and turned to the other side, where his boyfriend was lying, already awake, smiling, and with his hair perfectly combed (this was magic, too. It had to be).

"Very funny,” Everett muttered, throwing the rubber toy at him. “What time is it?"

Stephen stroked his lips with a finger, then kissed him.

"You know that when you're with me, time doesn’t matter."

"It matters when I have a meeting at nine."

"It's half past nine."

"Shit, you shouldn’t let me sleep that long."

Ross jumped out of bed and went in search of his clothes: they had to learn not to scatter them all over the place, when they undressed to have sex (that is, every time they were in the bedroom).

"Yes, I had to,” Strange sighed, “this investigation is wearing you out."

"I work for the CIA, I don’t need a caregiver."

"No, you needed to rest. And, besides, I was hoping I could talk to you about something, this morning."

"I'm already late," Ross objected, as he finished dressing.

"You know very well that I can get you to the meeting on time, half an hour ago, or earlier, if you wish."

Using one of his portals and the Eye of Agamotto, but Ross didn’t want to take advantage of it too much: once Wong had given him a boring lecture about magic, that shouldn’t be used inappropriately, and Ross didn’t want to hear another one.

"No, I’ll take my car. Look, we'll talk tonight, okay?"

Everett took his briefcase, opened the bedroom door... and found himself inside the closet, surrounded by shirts and trousers.

"What the hell...?" He pushed the door and stumbled back into the bedroom.

"In the closet, Everett? I thought you were beyond that stage by now," Stephen joked with an amused smile on his lips, leaning his back against the headboard.

The sheet barely covered Strange’s crotch and it was a vision that Ross didn’t need, if he wanted  to get angry with him. In fact he couldn’t.

"All right, let's talk," Ross conceded, pulling off his jacket and sitting down on the bed: Stephen wasn’t the kind of man who let go easily.

Suddenly, Strange became more serious, and Ross became slightly alarmed. He saw Stephen reaching for his nightstand and taking out a dark red velvet box, like in a slow-motion scene; his pulse skyrocketed, and his breathing became heavy, because,  _ "Dear Lord above, what is he doing? Why today? What is there so special about today? I'm not ready, it's a morning like many others, I haven’t taken my coffee or showered yet, I don’t... he's beautiful... God, look at his eyes... I'm crazy, what am I thinking? I love him, I loved him since the first moment, but it's too soon, right? Right? Why does no one answer me?" _

While he was panicking, Stephen made the box disappear with magic, and a golden ring appeared on his palm.

Everett stood frozen, and looked at the ring without saying a word for so long, that in the end Strange became worried, and broke the silence with a little cough.

"Do you need CPR? I warn you, it's been a while since my last shift at the A&E."

Ross pressed his lips together: how could Stephen joke right now, when he was on the verge of a panic attack?

Everett had been at war, had flew jet fighters, and had led dangerous missions in enemy territory, but no CIA training had prepared him for the wave of emotions that overwhelmed him, while he was sitting on their bed, staring at the small golden ring.

"I... I don’t... so suddenly, I didn’t think..." he finally stammered, but his words made no sense.

Or perhaps they made for Stephen, because he leaned to him and kissed him on the lips.

"That's how surprises work. May I?" He asked, pointing to Ross’s left hand.

"Yes, yes, sure."

It might be too soon, but Ross realized he wanted to feel the weight of that ring around his finger.

Stephen's hands trembled. They always trembled a little when he didn’t resort to magic, and he had to accomplish a delicate gesture; usually, it was Everett the one who helped him, when it happened, but right now, his hands were trembling visibly, too

"Sorry," he murmured, leaning his forehead against Stephen's, "I'm still a little shocked."

"Don’t apologize, I take it as a compliment. Here, that's it," Stephen said, when the ring was on Everett's finger.

"It's beautiful, thank you."

Ross caught his lips in a long kiss that made him forget everything, then Strange put a hand on his chest and moved a few millimeters away.

"Wait, there's something else."

"Don’t tell me you've already booked the church and the restaurant. I have to check my planner, first."

"Oh, you've recovered your sense of humor: I guess the shock has passed."

"So, what's up?"

"Unbutton your shirt, and put the left hand on your chest, just above your heart."

Slightly hesitant, Everett did as he had been said; the moment when the ring touched his chest, a bright green spell formed around his hand, and his soul was struck by an intense and overwhelming feeling. It was love, the purest and most profound love he had ever experienced.

"What… what is it?" He asked softly.

"It's pretty complicated to explain, but in a nutshell, I've put the feelings I feel for you in a temporal loop: as long as I'm alive, this spell will show them to you, whenever you want."

"Stephen, I know what you feel for me, and I hope you know what I feel for you."

"Yes, I know," Strange answered, kissing Everett’s palm, "but I thought that we both lead dangerous lives and we're often separated, and with this spell, it's as if I were always with you."

"I love it: they will have to tear the hand away from my body, to take off this ring."

Then, Everett looked down at Stephen's hands, but he wore no ring.

"What about you?"

Strange shook his head.

"Not yet."

"But…"

"I don’t need to be able to read your mind, to understand that you just thought you weren’t ready. If you will, you will choose a ring to give me."

"When,” Ross pointed out, “when I will be ready. Because I will be, you know. Only not now, it's..." he moistened his lips, nervous.

"Too soon."

"I hadn’t thought about it yet, I didn’t have time. You know, with that vibranium theft and everything."

"You don’t owe me any justification."

Ross got up on his knees and sat astride him.

"Is your offer to get me to the meeting in time still valid?"

"Always."

"Great. I love magic," Everett sighed, pulling off his shirt from his head.

  
  


_ New York, 177A Bleecker street, _

_ today _

 

A last shiver of pleasure shook Everett's body as Stephen slipped out of him; the sorcerer put his face in the crook of Everett’s neck and breathed slowly, peppering the damp skin with little kisses.

Everett stroked the arms and the toned back of his lover, sighing satisfied, but after a while he frowned: Stephen wasn’t lax as usual, he was still stiff and tense.

And the night before he had come to bed late at night.

"Hey, is something bothering you?" Ross asked, playing with his dark hair.

Stephen rested his head on Everett’s chest, and closed his eyes.

"It’s nothing, I'm just having bad dreams lately."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"In my dreams I’m in a desolate land, with no more life, and I perceive an impending sense of doom."

"What else?"

"That's all."

"My God, this year there are the midterm elections, hopefully it will not be a bad omen."

The joke worked, and Stephen relaxed in his arms, giggling, then got up and picked up his clothes (no, they hadn’t yet learned not to throw them anywhere).

"Can’t you stay in bed a little longer?" Ross asked, bringing his arms behind his head.

"Wong is here, and I promised to take him to eat a real American breakfast, but you can stay here and rest."

"That for sure: I don’t have to go to the office today, and I have no intention of moving from this bed."

"Is that a promise?" Strange asked, with a mischievous light in his eyes.

"Come back quickly, and you'll find out for yourself."

Stephen closed the door closed behind him, and Ross tried to go back to sleep, but a few minutes later, a deafening boom made him jump out of bed; he dressed in a flash, took his gun, and moved quickly along the long corridor, keeping the gun leveled in front of him.

"Stephen!"

"I'm here Everett, I'm fine."

Ross joined him in the main hall: the window was shattered, and there was a huge hole in the middle of the staircase.

"What the hell happened here, was it a meteor?"

"Not exactly."

With a spell, Strange levitated a man out of the hole: he was covered in dust and debris and his clothes were tattered, but Ross recognized him immediately.

"Dr. Banner?"

"Oh, Deputy Commander Ross, hi."

"According to our intelligence, you left the planet two years ago," Ross remarked, putting the gun back in its holster.

"It’s a long story, but now I have no time to explain: Thanos is coming."

"Who?"

Stephen touched Dr. Banner's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"A serious danger looms over the planet."

"Like the one you saw in your dreams?" Ross asked, taking Stephen’s hand.

"Yes."

"Just great. I think I'll have to give up my day off," Ross said, running a hand through his hair. "I have to go to my office right now."

Strange nodded and opened a portal for him, but before crossing it, Ross pulled him to his chest, and kissed him one last time.

"I don’t understand what is going to happen, but I don’t like it: promise me that you will be careful, and that I will find you here, when I’ll come back."

"I cross my heart," Strange joked with a playful smile, but Ross wasn’t in the mood for joking.

"Stephen..."

Stephen's fingers touched the ring on Everett's finger, and his gaze became serious.

"I promise."

 

*

 

Ross coordinated the CIA agents from his office, but when the alien ship appeared in the sky over the city, it was immediately clear to him that they were dealing with something immensely powerful and that they didn’t have the means to fight it.

He followed the battle from monitors in the the control room, and watched helplessly as Stephen was kidnapped and transported unconscious on the spaceship.

"I require fighters, rockets, the space shuttle, I don’t care: we can’t lose sight of that ship!" He shouted.

"Sir, we can’t,” one of his assistants replied, astonished, “we don’t have the technology to do that."

"Goddammit," he hissed, closing his eyes.

_ "Don’t you dare to leave me, Stephen! You promised, remember that you promised!" _

 

Then, there were hours and hours of unnerving waiting, with increasingly troubling news coming from Wakanda, until the horror consumed before his own eyes: one by one, colleagues, assistants and friends disintegrated, their bodies reduced to a heap of dust on the floor.

Ross remained motionless with his back against the wall, petrified with terror, waiting to meet the same dreadful end at any moment, but it didn’t happen.

Instead, he felt an acute burning around the finger of his left hand, where Stephen's ring was, so painful it made him scream and collapse on his knees.

His first instinct was to tear the ring away, but he resisted and closed his hand in fist, covering it with the other hand, and curled up on himself.

Out there, somewhere, Stephen was suffering, maybe he was fading too, but by protecting his ring, Ross had the feeling he was protecting him too.

"Stephen..." he moaned.

Slowly, too slowly, the pain receded, and only then he opened his fist again; his hand was bleeding, but the ring was still there.

He had to know what had happened.

He ran out of the building, ignoring the confused looks and the questions of the few survivors of that silent massacre, and climbed into his car, heading for the Sanctum.

Getting there wasn’t easy, he had to dodge the cars without drivers in the middle of the road, and near Greenwich Village, he had to leave the car and go on on foot, because the destruction left by battle didn’t give him any alternatives.

"Wong!” he shouted, opening the door of the building, “Wong, where are you?"

"Over here," answered a tired voice.

The man sat at the foot of the stairs, his head in his hands.

"Wong! Stephen... where is Stephen?"

Wong barely raised his head, and Ross gasped: he looked ten years older than that morning.

"I looked for him everywhere on the astral plane, up to the farthest corners of the universe, but I didn’t find him. The Sorcerer Supreme is gone. I'm sorry, I know that you two..."

"No, no, it can’t be."

"I know that it’s difficult to accept, but it’s true."

Ross tightened his lips and stubbornly shook his head, then undid his shirt with trembling fingers, and put the ring on his chest.

A second later, a green spell encircled his hand and Ross was hit by a huge wave of relief.

"No, he’s not dead - he panted - the spell is still there."

"What is this?” Wong asked, “I have never seen such a complex spell, and the gem of Time has been used."

"Stephen told me that he had locked up his feelings for me, and that, as long as he is alive, the spell will work."

Wong leaned over him, studied the intricate structure of the spell, and touched it with his fingers.

"It's much more than that... this is like Strange’s effluence."

"What?"

"There is a part of him, perhaps of his astral projection, in this spell. Son of a bitch, this is a masterpiece," Wong murmured, almost in disbelief.

Ross gaped at him.

“Say what?"

Wong sat down again, and shook his head.

"Somehow, he found a way to exist in some form: right now he isn’t in this reality or on the astral plane, but a part of him still exists. Otherwise, as you said, the spell wouldn’t be working."

Ross looked at his bloody hand.

"Before, while everyone was disappearing, the ring caused me this wound. But I had the impression that if I took off, it would disappear, just like people did."

"I think so: as I told you, I don’t fully understand how the spell works, but, by keeping the ring on you, you prevented Strange from disappearing altogether. And maybe the ring and its spell will help him find a way back."

"Like a beacon?"

Wong snorted a laugh.

"It's a bizarre but effective metaphor."

_ "It's as if I were always with you,"  _ Stephen said, slipping the ring on his finger, and he had kept his promise.

He was still out there, somewhere. Now he just had to keep the other promise, and come back.

And before then, Everett had to do something important, something that he had been postponed for too long; he greeted Wong with a nod, and walked towards the door.

"Deputy Commander Ross, where are you going?"

"To buy a ring."

Wong looked at him as if he had completely lost his mind.

"Now?"

"Well, New York is the city that never sleeps, I'm sure that, despite this mess, I’ll find an open jewelry."

"But why?"

Everett smiled.

"Because I want to be ready, when he comes back."


	2. 2

Down in the street, a honking car broke the silence.

Ross started; he was so used to the noise and chaos of New York that the quiet that reigned now was almost disturbing.

If Thanos’s plan was to give prosperity to the universe by killing half of its inhabitants, he had failed, at least for what concerns the Earth.

The survivors were still upset and lost, many people were mourning the loss of dear friends and family members, the number of suicides had increased alarmingly, and for those who remained, the work was harder than ever: there was a constant shortage of doctors, nurses, firefighters, service personnel and policemen, while criminals took advantage of security breaches. In many States political leaders had dissolved, and those who took over had decided that democracy wasn’t a primary need.

In short, nothing had changed compared to before, and Ross doubted that on other planets the situation was very different: humanoids hardly changed their innermost nature.

He looked out the window: half the lights of the city were out and the sight was as depressing as the silence.

The Avengers (well, the survivors) had left the planet several weeks before: Tony Stark claimed to have a plan to defeat Thanos and to reverse what the alien had done, but the more time passed, the more difficult was to hope.

He rummaged in the left pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small blue velvet ring pouch: inside there was the ring he had bought for Stephen: a simple white gold band engraved with his promise:  _ "In any universe, I'm yours". _

And the ring Stephen had given to him was always on his finger.

Everett put it on his chest and the spell activated.

It had become a sort of ritual for him, at the end of the day, a way to curb despair, and to be wrapped up and consoled by the feeling that united them.

He was a former military man, he had been trained to handle the sense of loss, but losing Stephen had been devastating.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"I miss you in a way that I didn’t think it was possible,” he murmured. “I miss your atrocious sense of humour, your being a peacock to show how good you are with magic, your arrogance in the face of danger, I... I miss you."

Everett pressed a finger on his lips and sighed: yes, he also missed Stephen’s kisses, his deep voice, the scent of frankincense and oriental spices that rose from his clothes and his skin, his beard that burned his skin when he kissed his body.

A discreet knock on the door temporarily distracted him from the melancholy.

"Yes?"

It was Lindley, one of his collaborators who had survived.

"Commander, I finish my work for tonight, I leave you these reports to check."

Given the shortage of staff, Ross had been promoted to head of his division.

"Leave them on my desk, they will be reviewed for tomorrow morning."

"So, can I go?" Lindley asked, and his voice betrayed a note of impatience.

"Of course. Go, I'm sure Tessa is waiting for you."

The snap of Thanos's fingers hadn’t separated Lindley from his girlfriend and, when he thought about it, Ross couldn’t avoid to feel envious of them, even though he knew he was mean-spirited.

"Thank you, commander.” Lindley reached the door, but there he hesitated for a moment, “Listen, why don’t you come to dinner to our place, one of these nights? Tessa is a great cook and she always asks me to invite you."

"I'll think about it. One day, when I don’t have too much work to do," he replied, pointing at the reports to be reviewed. 

But Ross knew very well that he would never accept that invitation, that he would always make up an excuse not to go: reports, phone calls to be made, emails to be answered. 

He was really envious.

He worked a couple more hours, eating the leftovers from lunch, until he realized he could no longer concentrate on what he read.

He got up and went to an adjoining office, which he had used as a bedroom, placing a pillow and some blankets on a sofa.

There were plenty of empty rooms in the building, and he just didn’t feel like returning to sleep at the Sanctum, on that bed that no longer smelled of Stephen and oriental spices.

He changed clothes, wearing the jogging suit and then the gun holster under his armpit, by force of habit, and another memory of Stephen hit him.

_ They weren’t together yet, not officially at least, but they saw each other for dinner almost every evening. _

_ That particular night, when Ross sat down at the table and undid the buttons of his jacket, Stephen saw the butt of the gun he carried, and sighed. _

_ "I think I'll have to get used to dating someone who's always on duty." _

_ "Is it a problem?" _

_ "No. After all, as a sorcerer, I don’t observe office hours, too." _

_ "Right. In this we are similar... it a good thing, isn’t it?" _

_ Stephen reached across the table and touched his hand. _

_ "I have good feelings." _

Ross shook his head, as if to wipe away the memory, and tied the small pouch that held his ring around his neck. He never parted from it, because he wanted to continue to believe that Stephen could suddenly return, at any moment, and the first thing he wanted to do was put the ring on his finger.

Finally he put his headphones into his ears, selected a random playlist, left the building and started running.

Just like work, running helped him not to think.

At the intersection of Lexington Ave with E 34th St., he noticed two men loading office furniture on an old van.

Years of experience on the field put him on alert: there was something weird about the situation. It was past 10 a.m., the two men were wary, nervous, and were throwing the furniture on the van without care, as if they were in a hurry.

He slowed down and approached one of them with a friendly smile.

"Good evening."

The man jumped and dropped the chair he was loading into the van, as if to confirm Ross’s suspicions: those weren’t their furniture.

"What the hell, man! You almost gave me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry. What are you doing, moving?"

"Yes," replied the man, evasive, resuming loading the chairs.

"So I guess you will have no trouble showing me the documents proving that you are taking furniture away from your office."

"Here, I... the documents are..."

Suddenly, Ross pulled the gun from the holster and stretched his arm behind himself, without looking back: from the rearview mirror of the van, he saw the accomplice of the man approaching behind him with a lamp in his hand, ready to hit him.

"You'd better put it down, son. Now."

The other man paled, and did as he had been ordered.

"All right, all right, I put it down."

"Now, come here in front of me and keep your hands well in sight. I'm not in the mood for surprises."

"No surprise, sir."

Ross composed 911, asking for a patrol car, and the other man protested briskly.

"Seriously? We weren’t doing anything wrong! Everyone who worked in that office vanished, they will not use this stuff anymore."

"I don’t care," said Ross grimly, "the laws haven’t been canceled, and theft is still a crime."

Shortly after, the patrol took the two thieves away, while Ross stopped there to bring the furniture back to the office from which they were stolen.

 

The next day, he had lunch with a colleague.

"I heard what you did last night. Look, if you think you haven’t enough work to do, I can pass you some of mine, you don’t need to become a vigilante."

"You wish,” Ross answered, “besides, I didn’t act as vigilante, I only enforced the law."

"In my opinion you could have let them go: those two were just taking away some furniture that no one will use anymore."

"No, don’t talk like that!"

"Why? It’s the truth."

"No: Tony Stark said there is a way to reverse what Thanos did."

"He and the other Avengers have left the planet for weeks, and we haven’t heard any news from them. By now..." he shook his head.

"No!” Ross blurted out vehemently, and his colleague looked at him, puzzled. 

“Don’t say that word,” Ross kept on, “because if you do, it means that you have resigned yourself that this will be our future, it means you have given up hope."

"Maybe I did it."

"But I didn’t."

Losing hope meant accepting the idea that Stephen would never come back, and Ross couldn’t accept it. He was ready now, in his jacket pocket there was a ring that waited to be put on Stephen's finger.

It couldn’t end like that.

 

The following weeks brought no change or news, until one day, while Ross was sitting at his desk, a portal opened in front of him and Wong came out.

He was breathless, had a bleeding wound on his arm, and behind him was a greenish landscape that was decidedly alien.

"Wong?"

"I don’t have time to explain anything now, but I need the ring Strange gave you."

"What? Never!"

Instinctively, Ross put his hand behind his back.

"You must listen to me: we understand how to bring them back, all of them, but to do that I need the ring and the spell that Strange has created."

"But…"

"I know how important it is to you. I wouldn’t ask, if it wasn’t absolutely necessary."

Ross took the ring off and handed it to Wong, albeit reluctantly.

But that was what Stephen would do.

"Can I come with you?"

Wong shook his head.

"Your SIG-Sauer wouldn’t help you or us where I'm going, believe me."

That said, he crossed the portal again and closed it.

 

Ross waited, waited and waited again, but nothing happened that day: Wong hadn’t specified how long it would take, or if the plan would be successful, and the wait was really unnerving.

Three more days passed, and clinging to hope was more and more difficult: perhaps the plan had failed, perhaps Thanos was too strong and had killed them all, perhaps it was really time to give up and return the ring to the jewelry.

Ross was walking down the corridor, heading for the elevator, when something slowly began to materialize on the floor in front of him: initially it was just a pile of dust, but slowly it took the form of a human being and finally a black woman appeared on the floor.

"Lucinda!" Ross shouted: she was a colleague of him, killed by Thanos. He knelt next to her and sat her down, leaning her against the wall.

"Wha... Everett? Where am I? What happen? I don’t remember…"

"Don’t move. Breathe slowly, yes, like that."

"I don’t…"

"Do not worry, everything's fine, you're back."

Ross stood up and looked around: all the people who had been killed by the mad titan were reappearing: dazed, confused and still incredulous, but alive.

And it meant that...

He ran to his office, pushing away anyone who tried to stop him, and slammed the door open, but he didn’t have time to do anything, because something enveloped him completely, lifting him from the ground and making him spin around. Something made of red cloth that smelled of frankincense and oriental spices.

"Cloak! It’s you!"

"I know you're happy to see him again, but now put him down," said a familiar voice, a warm, sensual, deep voice, which shook slightly, perhaps from emotion, perhaps from exhaustion.

The Cloak of Levitation placed him back on the ground, moved away and finally, after long, terrible months of anguish and loneliness, Ross saw Strange again.

His clothes were torn and several wounds were visible, there was dirt on his face, he radiated a disgusting alien smell, but he was alive and solid in front of him.

"You're here..." Ross whispered incredulously.

"I'm here. I promised you, "Strange answered, and a smile lit up his face.

"It took you some time!" He tried to joke, but internally he was barely holding back tears.

"Yeah, well... there have been some unforeseen events," Stephen chuckled, scratching his cheek.

"You... come here!"

They moved at the same time. Stephen took Everett’s face in his hands, paused for a moment to look into his eyes, then bent and kissed him, impetuous and hungry, biting his lips, sucking his tongue, caressing his palate and gums.

Their lips parted and joined again and again, and it was like finding the way back home after getting lost in a desolate land. 

Ross hugged him, burying his face in Strange’s chest, touching his back to make sure it wasn’t just a cruel dream or an illusion.

"Please, tell me it's all over."

"It's all over, we won."

Stephen's arms encircled Everett’s shoulders, and his mouth rested on his hair, while Everett squeezed him harder, but Strange protested with a moan of pain, and Ross raised his face in a silent question.

"I have to ask you to go easy on me," Stephen said with an apologetic smile. "I think I have one or two cracked ribs, a broken leg and maybe an internal bleeding."

"What? And why aren’t you in a hospital?” Ross shouted, “You're a mad fool."

"I wanted to see you first, I needed it."

"Me too," said Everett, placing a hand on his chest. "But now you need a doctor."

"No, they aren’t ordinary wounds, they could do little for me in the hospital. I need the magic of the Sanctum."

"What are you waiting for, then? Open a portal and let's go."

"Are you sure? With all the people who have come back to life, chaos will soon break out. Are you sure you do not want to stay here?"

Outside Ross’s office there was already a cacophony of people shouting and running, and phones ringing.

Deadpan, Ross turned off his phone, then stood on tiptoe to kiss him briefly on the lips.

"I'm sure, you're my priority now."

"I'm flattered."

Strange opened a portal to go to the Sanctum, but before he could enter, Everett grabbed him by the elbow.

"Just a moment."

It was the right moment, and he didn’t want to wait any longer, so he took the velvet ring pouch from his pocket, took out the ring and knelt in front of him.

"Er..." he began, but immediately stopped, cursing himself silently: even if he had played the scene in his head hundreds of times, now he was overwhelmed by emotion and didn’t know what to say.

Standing in front of him, Strange bit his lips to hide a smile.

"Don’t say a word," Everett muttered.

"I'm not saying anything," Stephen answered innocently, and then he held out his hand.

"I'm ready," Everett said simply, and slipped the ring on his finger, then stood up and accepted Stephen's passionate kiss.

"I have something that belongs to you, too" said the sorcerer, and he materialized Everett’s ring in his hand, and he hastened to wear it again: even if he had took it off only for a few days, he had missed feeling it around his finger, where it belonged.

 

It was odd to set foot in the Sanctum after almost a year, but only with Strange at his side it seemed the right thing to do, because only with him that bizzarre place, which held secrets and magical artifacts, could be called home.

They entered a basement room, where Ross had never been, without any furniture, but with runes and magic symbols etched on the stone floor and on the walls; Strange moved to the center of the room, where a spiral spell, emanating a strong white light, enveloped him, then he lay down in mid-air, without the help of his cloak.

Ross raised an eyebrow, in awe, and Strange smiled.

"I know. If I ever get fired, I could always go to work for A Taste of Magic." [1]

The joke, instead of making Ross giggle, caused him an unexpected wave of melancholy; he pressed his lips together and swallowed, before he could speak again: "I even missed your atrocious sense of humour. This should give you an idea of what my life has been like in these months."

"I'm sorry," Stephen murmured, serious again, but Ross shook his head. "You don’t have to. You saved the universe and you kept your promise, that's all that matters."

Strange's eyelids grew heavy, and he hid a yawn behind his hand.

"The healing spell will make me sleep for a few hours."

"I'll wait here with you."

"There’s no need."

"But I want to."

The Cloak touched Everett on the shoulder, then stretched out in midair to form a hammock, near Strange, and he invited Ross to lie down on it.

"Better to accept his offer, Everett: you'll have to be in perfect shape for when I wake up, healed, and drag you into our bedroom."

"Shut up," Ross muttered, blushing, but he lay down on the Cloak.

Strange closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep, while Ross looked at him for a while, then reached out to him, touching his hand and, reassured by his presence, fell asleep in turn.

Their rings shone, illuminated by the light of the spell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] It’s a famous restaurant in New York, where you can watch magic shows during the dinners.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know that in Infinity War Ross does not appear, but since the scene on earth begins in medias res, with Stephen and Wong coming down the stairs, nothing prevents you and me from thinking that my fic took place behind the scenes.


End file.
